#brain rot equates to how my brain is rotting with your writing in a good way like picture eating your favorite icecream and letting it sink

[2-dsimp]

Hi, NightFlurry Anon again!  Sorry for being on hiatus for so long. I’m busy with school, and lack of inspiration stopped me from sending in more ideas for my fantasy au yandere Genshin game.  I’m trying to make good comments and ideas for Genshin, but they either slip past me or I can’t think of any, so I’ve been stuck.  Thankfully, it came to me, so I wrote some people I could think of.  Sorry, I hope you aren’t mad. I love your work!  Also, I appreciate any thoughts or comments on my writings. Also, can you please add me as an anon or give me an emoji?  Thank you!

Kazuha

As stated, Kazuha is a traveling knight in the fantasy au nicknamed among his fellow wanderers and travelers as the “Maple Leaf Mercenary,” nicknamed the “Wind Whisperer,” or rumored as the “Descendent of Miyamoto Musashi.” He is known as a hero as he saved many victims from violent thugs and greedy robbers throughout his travels, saving the day.   

Many witnessed Kazuha's bravery first-hand in battle, the mercenary who was as light as a breeze as he quickly made due to his enemies seemingly with ease.  Graceful like a gale, he danced without a care in the world among the rain of arrows aimed to kill, acting as if he was in no danger; instead, he was simply avoiding the arrows as if avoiding the rain.  Merciless as a typhoon, he masterly stroked down his vast enemies no matter how large they were against his tiny frame or how many against one knight. They all fell against his sword one way or another; no one had ever seen such a massacre created by Kazuha.  Kazuha was hailed as a hero by many. Still, instead of receiving gold or hands of marriage by thankful nobles, he insisted upon a decent amount of money and a temporary home to stay in before continuing his travels. 

Among his fellow travelers, they gossip about how they hear the sounds of the wind whispering near the mercenary whenever they pass by him, and they rumor that the winds whisper to him directions on where to go in a hidden language only familiar to the mercenary.  A traveler gossiped that the wind was a companion because one day, the traveler noticed that Kazuha was talking to no one but the wind and chatting to it like the wind was an old friend.  Many pondered how the young mercenary understood the wind as many tried to show an ear to hear what the wind may say, only to receive a low whistle or leaves in their face. They decided that not all mysteries were meant to be solved and let them go like the wind.  He is nicknamed the “Maple Leaf Mercenary” because people have sworn that whenever they pass by him, they can smell the hint of maple coming from the young mercenary despite the hardships of dust and storm that befell the wanderer. 

Many say that if you look closer, the mercenary leaves a trail of maple leaves in his wake despite not being autumn season; some even say that when he fights, the maple leaves guide him on the battlefield and fight alongside him.  Despite the many churning rumors and bellowing gossip, not one person has any clue about the mysteries that cloud the hidden background of the knight known as Kazuha. Kazuha keeps everyone at arm's length despite being friendly among his fellow travelers, and many speculate that he hails from the kingdom of Inazuma with his clothes similar to the Inazuma fashion. His code of manner is similar to how samurai carry themselves in Inazuma. 

However, whenever nosy travelers try to pry information from Kazuha, they are only greeted with the same-everlasting smile as he says that the only link he has to the kingdom is his trusty sword before looking at the distance with a sad gaze.  Kazuha, the wanderer, never had a place to call home, constantly bouncing from one place to another, and nobody to call a friend, always temporary companions he’d meet on the road until he departed along his journey, never seeing them again until he wandered into his new destination, the kingdom of Seizon-sha, hoping to make a quick pit-stop before continuing his journey. 

One day, Kazuha, unfortunately, came across a rather impatient noble who started shouting out how his day was ruined because an airheaded peasant couldn’t keep his eyes on the road and ultimately sullied his clothes till it was useless. He must pay a lifetime for his crimes so that he can pay for his clothes that could cost not even a dumb low-life like him can understand,’ even though the noble bumped into him first. There was minimal damage to his clothes despite a mini stain that no one could see unless you looked hard enough.  The tension was high enough that Kazuha could cut it down with his sword before the situation worsened; an angel appeared in the form of Their Highness to settle down the angry noble, then came in between the two to calm and lessen the problem. 

Kazuha never had someone who protected him, only relying on his wits and skill until their Highness stepped in, shielding Kazuha with their body despite the noble being twice their size and height. Their Highness stood courageously against him as they used their knowledge to counter every remark the noble had thrown at them before finishing off their enemy.  Kazuha thought it would be the last time he’d see his guardian angel until the reader took his hand and asked him if he was alright. Kazuha had never seen such a pair of eyes more beautiful, bright like their highnesses; not even the stars could compare to their beauty.  Those eyes, they must only look at me and me alone.

The rest of the day was a blur as their Highness dragged Kazuha all across town so they could give him a proper welcome to the traveling mercenary despite Kazuha’s protest that a simple tour would suffice, but their Highness insisted.  The two celebrated the day wandering around the town, pointing out each landmark, escaping from the royal guards (their Highness snuck out of the castle to wander), and enjoying each other’s company.  Eventually, their trip was cut short when the royal guards found the couple and had to bring the reader home, but before they left, the reader gave him a keychain to remember this day, thus ending their day as Kazuha looked at the back of the reader with starry eyes.  Or should I say obsessed eyes?  Readers thought this was the last time they saw the mercenary until they saw him again, but kneeling, pledging his loyalty as the reader's bodyguard so he could honor their Highness’s kindness and bravery when they saved him from the wrath of a noble.  Despite Their Highness’s many protests, Kazuha’s mind was settled; thus, the traveling knight Kazuha became the second bodyguard of Their Highness.  Kazuha swore he’d only be loyal to Your Highness and them alone. By the samurai's honor, he’ll serve His Highness’s side till the day he dies.  You’ve dug your grave, your highness.  Don’t you know that if you give a starving man food, he’ll keep wanting more and more?

Kazuha is so sweet and thoughtful, always thinking of you first, giving you his jacket when the night’s been frigid that you could see one’s breath. Despite your many protests, he would get sick. He always shrugged it off with a smile, saying you need it more than him.  Making you his priority whenever thugs or robbers decide to test their luck and then try to rob you, even comforting you during this traumatic moment by using his leaf whistle to create a serene melody and telling stories of his home.  Shielding you away from haughty nobles who sneer at your figure as they gossip about your kingdom’s state and comment how it’ll all be better if a useless heir like you would marry off to some old pig and be done with it.  Funny enough, the nobles that sneered at you died gruesomely several days later. One had all their limbs cut off, and their corpse was found by a maid who heard screaming in the dead of night; another was burned alive in their mansion. Unfortunately, they couldn’t make it because their door was bolted shut; luckily, everyone escaped safely, and finally, their waist cut off the last one, and their corpse was hung outside their mansion gates with the message “Useless Heir.”  The only person who could’ve known those words would’ve been Kazuha.… no there’s no way it could’ve been him.  He’s too sweet!

Kazuha, who had such a way of words, a voice as smooth as silk, words as sweet as sugar, and his sentences would make any poet green with envy.  You couldn’t stay mad at him when those sweet words came out of his mouth, making it sound better, and you shouldn’t worry about a thing.  Even if he picked a fight with another knight (*cough*Xiao*cough*), he sounded so sorry for his actions, and his face looked like a kicked puppy!  Say sorry, you monster!  Kazuha, with his calm and collected attitude, could calm even the roughest nobles and the grumpiest of knights and easily lessen the tension no matter how impossible.  Honestly, you’ve never seen him angry before. It’s like nothing seemed to deter him.  Don’t be fooled by his honeysuckle face and sugarcoated words; he knows you fall for his soft looks and sweet words and abuses this power. If you interrogated the knights who saw Xiao and Kazuha fight, you’d learn that he started it first by threatening him, but of course, you’ll never know because silence is bliss.  Your Highness, underneath that soft demeanor, is an obsessed, lovesick samurai ready to kill in your honor.  Pray to whatever god you believe in because you NEVER want to see him angry. he may not lash out or scream, but he’s just as dangerous since he’s a silent wrath.  Be on your guard.

“Your Highness, if I never met you that day…I would still wander aimlessly from country to country without a clear goal.  My only home was a prison; my friends were unfamiliar, my family was gone, and I had nothing that meant anything to me, so I wandered.  I had my feet carry me from place to place, never stopping unless to rest.  The winds being my only company on a lonely journey across the world, the sounds of the wind and my footsteps being my only conversations.  Never a home, family, or thing I could look forward to until you came along.  You’ve brought a beautiful symphony to my wandering soul. Without you, my life had no meaning but to wander, but now I have a purpose which is to serve by your side.  So, please, your Highness, allow me to continue staying by your side I’ll dedicate every battle in your honor and bring down whatever enemy that stands in your way.  Use me as a tool, make me your trophy, play with me as a doll for your entertainment, but never get rid of me.  Just let me stay by your side, my dear guardian angel.”

Note: Sorry if it didn’t sound as yandere as you hoped. I wanted a slow build-up to Kazuha’s yandere-ness like it starts soft and sweet, then it turns obsessed.  Also, I'm working on Wanderer's, Heizou's, and Zhongli's profiles so far.

I hope you enjoyed Kazuha, the wandering knight’s background for the Fantasy AU. Next is Wanderer, the Grumpy Visitor; Heizou, the Consulting Detective; Diluc, the Brooding Bachelor; and Zhongli, the Lonely King.  Please let me know what you think, and I want your opinion, even if it’s ten paragraphs long. I love feedback!!!  Thank you! 

NightFlurry Anon

P.S. In the last posts, you said ‘good food,’ ‘go’s brr,’ and ‘turns to rot,’ but I don’t know what it means.  Sorry, I’m not social and don’t understand slang like this.  *-*  My sister used TTYL on me, and it took me three whole days to figure it out, mainly because my older sister told me what it meant later.  ^-^  Also, which of my writings is your favorite part so far?

Welcome back NightFlurry! This is absolutely wonderful!

Also it matters not wether it’s as yandere as I hoped or not! (In my opinion, i really liked the in depth background you gave Kazuha and his mannerisms/general attitude before he met the reader) But continuing on, what’s truly important is what you think and feel about your own writing style/pieces!

Because everyone has their own perception of what a yandere is. Which is pretty awesome in itself! Because it opens up a wide variety of topics/ideas delving into the genre. o(≧v≦)o

But I’ll be happy to try and give any and all advice with writing in general! I’m no expert but I’ll do my best to help out (>^ω^<)

[dreamingcloudie]

Imagine what the first kiss between you and Dottore would be like, especially if it was back in your akademiya days. I'm just imagining Akademiya!Dottore being shy about it, it's his and your first kiss, and you have to initiate it while he's mentally freaking out for once in his life (all flustered in front of you).

You'd tease him about it every chance you could get, bonus if it's when you're having an intimate moment that involves you guys kissing!!!

Omg this one is so cute!! I could imagine Akademiya!Dottore being all blushy blushy. I see him as someone who's not familiar feelings. He's most likely someone who thinks logically but then you came along. And his feelings for you is something that couldn't be explained with logic and he gets so frustrated and confused. I couldn't help myself but to write a little something <3

Can't work on fics rn I have exams to study for. So to make up for that, I hope these little drabbles inspired by y'all's brain rot will do for now :')

You went to where the letter told you to meet up and it led you to a cliff. You pushed some giant leaves out of your sight and the view in front of you had you in awe.

You could see the Akademiya standing tall and proud in the distance. City lights were lit up, illuminating the streets of Sumeru city. And the sky... there were countless of stars up there, staring back down at you.

As you walked closer to the cliff, that's when you saw your best friend—Zandik, pacing back and forth.

What's this? You thought.

This was an unusal behavior from him. You thought he'd be back in his dorms; pulling an all nighter to study. And not here at the cliff.

You picked up your pace and called out to him, "Zandik!"

He perked up at the sound of your voice and he smiled a bit at you, "Ah, good, I was worried you didn't see my letter."

"Well, it was placed right on my desk with big red letters written on the envelope. It would be near impossible to miss it," you said as you held the envelope up. The words "To (Y/n) from Zandik (must read!)" were scrawled onto it, judging by the messy hand writting. If it were for the countless time of you copying his notes, you would've never learnt how to make out what he's written down.

"Soo, what is this "problem" that you needed help solving?"

It was surprising to you that he needed help with something. With how intelligent he was, you thought he would never ask for help at all.

"Oh, right." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper along with a pen, handing it to you.

"Take a look at this. I, uh, couldn't seem to figure out how to solve this..."

You took the paper and the pen and looked at it.

"Solve i,

"9x- 7i < 3 (3x -7u)"

...Huh?

Of all the things you could've think of, you didn't expect it'd be this.

You looked at him with a raised brow. This was just some simple algebra. Something that he definitely didn't need help with. But oh well, you wouldn't turn down the oppertunity to help him.

"Okay, let's see..."

You went to the nearest tree trunk that you could find and used it as a support to write on the paper, began to solve the equation. After a while, you were done and smiled in triumph as you looked at the answer.

"This is way to easy! No need to thank me—" As you were about to give him back the paper, you blinked and looked at the answer again.

"i <3 u"

I... heart you?

You looked at Zandik and he was looking at anything but your eyes. His hands were fidgeting with his clothing. Realizing what was happening, you smirked and leaned closer to him.

"Hmm... why do you look so nervous, Zandik?" You asked in a soft voice, with a hint of playfulness in your words.

"I-I'm not nervous! Ha, you're c-clearly delusional if you think I, uh, look nervous," he spoke.

You leaned back and placed a hand under your chin, "Really? Then why are you shaking?”

“It’s cold out.”

“Uh huh.” You were trying your best to hold your laugh in. He looked so adorable right now… The way his cheeks went from pale to a rosey red. It didn’t help they looked so squishy either. This might be a risky move, but you decided to go for it and test the waters.

Your face got closer to his, as you did that he let out a gasp. His cheeks got even redder if that was even possible, at the close proximity shared between the two of you. Your noses were inches apart and your gaze was solely focusing on him. Once you saw he didn’t pull back and stayed still, you began to lean in even more. He subconsciously copied your movements as well. Just as your lips were about to touch, you pulled away and smirked at how red he looked.

“I believe… you have something you wanted to say to me first?”

His face scrunched up in embarrassment. He looked away and mumbled, “I… you…”

Even if you couldn’t hear him, you still knew what he said. But being the tease that you were, you wanted him to say it again in a clearer voice.

“Hm? I didn’t hear you… Would you look at me and say it again?” You asked, with a coy smile on your face.

He grumbled and took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze with yours.

“I… I love you.”

You smiled and placed both of your hands on his cheek. They were a lot more softer than you have imagined them to be.

“See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Feeling satisfied, you closed the gap between the two of you. Giving him his long-awaited kiss.

“I love you too, you silly goose.”

[spilledmilkfkdies]

So ever since @calissarowan posted their Dumantlos fan child, my brain has rotting about my old Gantlogron fan child and couldn't help but ask, in your opinion how would Gantlos and Ogron be like as parents to their own child other than Duman?

Oooooo hm!!

Jk- Kinda.

Though I have given Gantlos a dead daughter from his "pre-wizard" years, so I don't doubt he has more experience. I was gonna remove her from the equation temporarily, but you said MY opinion, so I'm letting her stay 🗣🗣

Now I do think it depends on when they manage to acquire a child, in whatever way, but rn let's pick the foggy period between locking away the fairies and S4, my absolute favourite one for random stuff to take place in fr. Enough room for them to slip into a more normal lifestyle, but still with that sneaky lil "We're not done yet." to add a bit of drama oOoooOooo

All things considered though, I would like to think they do try as parents. They'd never intentionally harm their kid in any way, and they do care so very much, even if they don't always show it in the most obvious ways. But I'd hope a gantlogron baby would know that at some point, having spent enough time with them to pick up on all the cues and all that. Can I guarantee that a person raised by them is the kindest, most understanding individual around? Probably not. But neither are Ogron and Gantlos themselves, so there. I guess.

Next on my list of things I wanna bring up; would the child be magical? BECAUSE, don't get me wrong, they'd love em either way- But. I know for a fact Ogron especially would be ecstatic to learn their child had magic in there somewhere. Exploring it with them, training, that's so much more interesting to him than all the reading and writing (even though he absolutely adored all of that too, but shhhh don't tell anyone). Might go a little overboard, can definitely see that happening, so Gantlos will have to help balance it all out.

At the end of the day, I'm a "There's worse parents to have" TRUTHER idc idc. Gantlos might need a sec to adjust to things and get used to the idea of having another child after what happened to his last, but also that was so long ago fr, who's to say that even matters anymore (me??). Things would end up fine either way, Ogron would help him right through it. That and the. "I fear I'll break them with the slightest touch" period he'll undeniably go through as well. In which Ogron did all the holding, but Gantlos would be on his ass constantly about "doing it wrong", all the while being too stressed to hold the baby himself. Getting out of that phase was a joy for everyone involved.

Overall they both have their parenting flaws, but again, they're not the worst. They do a decent job and have a pretty good time. Until the kid becomes a teenager, they're gonna be fighting for their lives. Ogron is gonna "While you're under MY roof-" it up, Gantlos would pull a "Because I said so." I'm so sorry 😔😔

[yuesya]

Hey! Sorry for clogging up your inbox all the time. I just have zenith brain rot and unfortunately it’s terminal.

I was recently reading what you wrote about a kimetsu no yaiba au. The Hashira would probably be veeery distrustful of any reports claiming some girl nearly killed an upper moon without even a nichirin sword. They’d probably be pretty happy about it after the rumours got confirmed tho.

In that vein, I can already imagine Shiki being a little too okay with Nezuko’s existence as a demon. Tanjiro would go on his usual spiel “She’s a good demon she helps us kill other demons etc.” And Shiki would just go: “does she require sustenance?” With the heavy implication that she’s be totally ok going grave robbing to give Nezuko food like a stray cat.

In regard to Zenith, do you have a definitive idea how you want Shiki’s uniform to look like? Students get to customise theirs a little. I’m imagining something closer to Nobara’s uniform than Maki’s. I can’t quite imagine Shiki wearing a mini skirt, especially for fighting.

Demon Slayer AU! Shiki would be a nightmare to fight for any demon haha, so I think that would be fun to write about. She'd probably give the demon slayers headaches, too, because cursed energy is completely different from the 'breath styles' that they use.

More headaches: The demon slayers see humans as humans and demons as demons. Shiki equates demons to 'out-of-control curse users' in her mind. In her eyes, demons are human, not demon, so that would also be fun to poke at. :D

We will get to Shiki's uniform later! Right now I think I'm still leaning towards something like a kimono, since Shiki likes her kimonos. Maybe there will be some experimenting going on, though, I haven't made up my mind yet.

[separatist-apologist]

what the fuck they mean 'would given a five stars if...' they're thinking they went to a restaurant and the steak wasn't properly cooked? wild

Yeah, that sucked to see, but that's the culture on goodreads. You SHOULD be able to review a published book that way. If an author is asking you to spend your money on something consumable, then you have the right to leave your feedback. I'll DIE on that hill, along with the one that says authors need to stay out of reader spaces. I've certainly ripped books apart for having shitty grammar, glaring plotholes, and feeling like a first draft. That's the whole basis for #hatersbookclub

But fanfic is NOT consumable in that way. No fanfic author is asking you to spend money, nor are they doing it professionally. Its a hobby and so you get people of all skill level and ability writing in another authors sandbox. It's like a potluck- we all bring a dish, we sample others (maybe AVOID the dishes we don't like), and talk about it enthusiastically.

And I feel like there is some brain rot happening because people equate the two with, "well you put it out there for consumption-" which yeah, but not in the same way. I'm not advertising, I'm not backed by a publisher (or using my own resources to self-pub), like its just my hobby. Read it, or don't, review it or don't, but don't treat it like actual published books.

Leave it out of published spaces. I know there are some fanfic authors who WANT this, because they (maybe, I'm not in their head) feel like it's comparable to "making it" but you have to kill that voice in your head, the one that equates making art to external validation. If you want to be a published author and you're writing fanfic to hone your storytelling chops, I think that's wonderful- and don't throw us all under the bus for your singular ambition, you know?

I Know Places keeps getting put up on goodreads and I am so delighted people still love it all these years later. And I wrote that in between living my life, usually during down time at work. I wrote it, and then I hit publish and I didn't concern myself with combing through for every little typo or adhering to grammatical rules or whatever else. I just wrote what felt good based on a conversation between a friend and wanting to see how it would play out.

And it sucks to do all that work FOR FUN and see people treat it like its a published work they should be allowed to shred to pieces. Like making someone a quilt and they immediately launch into how sloppy your stitches are but then assure you they also like it. Thanks. Glad I spent the time, it sure does feel good.

Anyway, sorry for the rant. I've been keeping it to myself for weeks and it feels kind of good to let some of it out

[feral-radfem]

Hi, I'm the anon before who asked about written erotica. Thank you for answering my ask. It was a long response and I'm sure it took a little bit of time, so I'm grateful for that.

As I said I'm new to radical feminism so I haven't had the chance yet to delve too deeply into anti-pornography, just mainly about how women in porn are treated and how it skews men's view of women. So that was why I wanted to ask about erotica. I always saw it as a creative outlet, esp. for women writers since so much of written erotica is... well, you know. But that it rots your brain like any other pornography does make sense actually.

I was quite young when I first got on the internet and I think I may have also been influenced by what you said. And how it kind of fucks with your sexuality. That erotica can also be an addiction never occurred to me, but again, it makes sense.

I've got a lot to think about! I hope you have a nice day.

Thank you for reaching back out. I like knowing that the people I write the responses to do get to see them at some point. Sometimes it feels like answering anons is just screaming into the void, so this was nice.

There is no shame in trying to learn or being new to the subject you're trying to learn. It's good to ask questions. I can definitely see how you came to the conclusion that written erotica is a creative release for women, though. In an era where choice feminism is the dominant strain of feminism all women's choices were framed as a feminist choice. However, things women choose to do, even if they do individually benefit them, cannot be considered feminist if it is detrimental to other women and girls. It's just individualism and women can be just as self-centered as men when they want to be. That's a human condition, unfortunately.

You are not alone in having been young and entering internet spaces that made no effort of regulating this material around the children they knew were there. A lot of them actively encouraged young girls to read it because 5-10 years ago began the revival of the free love movement. Porn, and erotica for women, were equated with masturbation and sexual healthy development. Falsely equated but they were in mainstream media regardless.

It was seen as puritan to try to shame children from engaging in pornography because they hit puberty of course they want to be sexually curious. That was a mass grooming of children being done during the early 2010s on the internet. Now, we have a whole generation of young girls who were pressured or shamed by being told that they were vanilla and to engage with media that continued this pressuring and shaming into their adulthood that they should treat their expressions of sexuality as a performance for others.

Much like Dworkin suggested, we have entered a period in which girls are being convinced that porn is good for them and it's being encouraged by women who have already internalized this message as children. It's our job as radical feminist to make it very clear that pornography of any type has nothing to do with the natural sexual curiosity that comes with puberty nor does it need to be involved in any of your sexuality as you grow older. It never becomes healthy, it is always detrimental, in all its iterations.

Hope you have a great day. Thanks for the follow-up message. :)

[joongwooclub]

tutor || P. SH.

no synopsis, just a brain rot of hwa based on his recent Instagram post.

genre: suggestive, if anyone likes it, ill write a part two w/ smut lolol, reader and hwa are the same age

warnings? seonghwa has a lowkey corruption kink, mention of crotch, uhh that's all I think ?? pet name : princess, angel, baby

✩: reblogs / reblog comments and feedbacks are appreciated!! story under cut!

college tutor seonghwa coming over to your house looking good in a white button up and black slacks. Y’all have been studying for a few hours and took a small break, you go downstairs to get some water and cut some apples and bring them back upstairs to your room. hwa was sitting at your desk, his long delicate fingers picking at the apples and you stare for too long causing him to smirk. “whatcha looking at princess?” He teased. Blush heating up your cheeks and caused you to look away. Seonghwa tsk his tongue and cups your cheek gently, “you always look at me with those innocent doe eyes…but I want to do not so innocent things to you baby” he whispers. His honey husky voice felt like it echoed throughout the room. You whimper at his tone and he grins, “my innocent angel isn’t so innocent huh?” He gentle grabs one of your hands and drags it on top of his lap, barely touching his crotch. “how about we do some math equations with our clothes?” 

[andithiel]

Happy birthday @etalice !

Today is my dear friend Etalice’s birthday, and we usually have this wonderful tradition of trying to make each other cry through angsty fics (ah the fandom experience, so wholesome!). However, this past year has been a shit show and a half and I haven’t had the headspace for writing for some time, so I thought I’d take a leaf out of @sassy-sassy3 book (and I think I’ve seen this done by others previously as well) and rec a few of Etalice’s fics as a birthday gift. I haven’t been able to choose any favourites because all of Etalice’s fics are amazing, but I’ve tried to make a variety selection. I've also tried to be clever and illustrate it with this spider silk because, much like Etalice's writing, it's delicate and pretty but also extremely strong. It will rip your heart out but you will also find comfort and healing through it. Happiest of birthdays to you my dear friend, I hope we'll be able to break each other's hearts next year ❤️ (Also I’m really sorry I’m not including any real commentary for these, my brain has been replaced with porridge due to a nasty cold.)

The funny thing about grief and time (Snarry | Explicit | 43,6 k)

Later, Harry will start telling people he fell in love with Severus after the war.

It will not quite be a lie.

Ode to the number two (Pansmione | Teen | 2,4 k)

Redesigning the official Ministry Robes seems like the logical thing to do.

Hermione suggests it a month after she is elected Minister for Magic. There is something uncomfortable about wearing the same old robes that haunted those same old hallways during the war, back when the Ministry was a different place and the weight of cowardice broke everyone’s back. It is an appropriate way of signalling a new era, Hermione feels, dressing up everyone in different clothes and more vivid colours.

It really seems like a good idea.

And then Pansy shows up.

The one in which Hermione thinks in maths and graphs and equations and pines after Pansy while Pansy pines after her.

True Love, Found At Sea (Drarry | Gen | 1,7 k)

Harry Potter, a confirmed bachelor, is perfectly fine with his life. And then, for no comprehensible reason whatsoever, Hermione goes and signs him up for a singles' Christmas cruise.

This is a journey and we call it home (Drarry | Mature | 4,5 k)

The first time Harry storms out to sulk on the streets of London, you sit on the floor, and you count your breaths, and you try very hard not to cry. It’s the middle of your first fight, and you’re so afraid it means it won’t work out. You’re so afraid that you’re too broken, in the aftermath of the war, too anxious and too clingy for the relationship to ever work.

When Harry comes back, you sit him down, and you talk through all his issues with him. He apologises, and he opens up about how difficult it is for him, this post-war world in which he’s not needed so badly anymore. How he doesn’t know what to do with himself. You’re happy, that night. Satisfied it’s all going to work out. Proud that he made the first step out of his shell and into the world.

Harry does not stop storming out.

A timeless tale of love and emotional labour.

The wolf underneath your skin (Snupin | Gen | 2,6 k)

You want to punch him. You want to hear the sound of his teeth on the stone-hard floor. You want to smear your knuckles in blood, you want to scream your betrayal in iron-red paint across his face. You want pain and spit and bruises that bloom like watercolour peonies under the skin.

A scene of What's past is prologue, from another perspective.

More than poison and dark (Drarry | Gen | 995 words)

No one ever entirely recovers from a war. The loudness of it, and the way everyone’s eyes shone with recklessness and fear - it keeps on living underneath your skin, it makes your flesh poison and your bones brittle. It doesn’t manifest the same for everyone, of course, the stain of violence and death, but it’s always there, beneath the surface, an apple rotting from its core.

In which the fat lady forgets her name, Draco refuses to acknowledge his, and Harry Potter is desperately in love.

Long live the beautiful heart (who find love and tear it apart) (Hinny | Gen | 6,6 k)

If Harry were someone else, someone who loves and understand books, someone like Hermione or Draco, he might think of a classical tragedy. He might section the whole catastrophe neatly into five acts and make sense of it that way. But he’s not, and so he doesn’t, and, anyway it’s just the beginning of the story yet.

In the wake of the war, Harry collapses.

Lovely podfic by @thirdeye1234 can be found here

[wreckofawriter]

The World Stilled

Pairing: Carl Grimes x reader

Word Count: 1.8k (sorry its so short)

Warnings: Zombies, panic attack

Request: @alex-sulli the carl grimes imagine, i was thinking like a fluffy imagine where the reader is worried about finding everyone/alexandria falling and he reassures her :,) you can choose either

A/n: I choose Alexandria, I tried writing on the road cuz season four and five are my favorite but it sucked so I deleted it. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

    It didn’t matter where in the walls you were. You could hear them. You could always hear them. The groans and growls of the monsters that had taken over your world were constant in your ears. You pretend it didn’t bother you because it shouldn’t have, you should have been able to walk around like you weren’t trapped inside of a metal coffin. You could live, you would live. That’s what you kept telling yourself. The words running over and over in your head until they lost their meaning and it was gibberish you continued to say. 

    You took as many gate watches as you could, it was better when you could see them, look them in their lifeless eyes, and know what you were up against. You hated hiding from them, it made you unsure, it made you feel like you were in the dark. 

    All-day you were running equations and scenarios through your head. If something were to happen how quickly could you get to Judith? Where was Carl if you needed to run? How much food was in your house? How many could you take out before you were cornered? Carl noticed how distant you got. He saw the way your eyes always darted towards the walls as if to check and see if they were still standing, the way you jumped when he walked up behind you or how your fingers were always dancing around your gun. You were paranoid, just as you had been when they found you, how you had been on the road, how you had been for weeks after first finding these walls. And now you were here again, alert and frightened. 

    Ron wasn’t helping, he had always made you uneasy. something about him made your mind scream. Now he was carrying around a gun, his eyes watching Carl a bit too carefully, you were just being paranoid, you knew that but something still screamed as you watched Rick teach him to shoot. But you were just paranoid. 

    You told Michonne about your fear and she had said it was what kept you alive. You supposed that was true. You couldn’t afford to relax, you knew if you did, you died and the people you loved died. But it was tiring to be paranoid. It was exhausting to jump at every shadow, never get a full night of rest, to run scenario after scenario until you went insane. Sometimes you wished you were as brain dead as some so you could finally take a break. 

    “Are you alright?” Carl’s voice broke you from your spiraling thoughts. He climbed the ladder to stand next to you as you scorned the walkers below you, eyebrows scrunched lip tucked between your teeth. 

    You nodded stiffly, “Fine.” What if you had people shoot from two different sections of the wall, would that clear a path? Or maybe you could use the Wolf’s bodies, if the walkers went to feed a few could escape. But the bodies were cold now, it was no use. 

    “You seem..” He paused looking for the right word, “Jumpy.” 

    You glanced to your side, your right hand ghosting your gun as it always did now. Carl was staring at you, his blue flannel open, a white t-shirt underneath surprisingly unstained. His hair blew away from his face in the slight breeze. “I wonder why.” you scoffed. 

    “These walls are going to hold.” he responded plainly, “I know they will.”

    “Then we’ll starve to death.” You were only half kidding. Your eyes moved back to the walkers. You had about three months worth of food, four if you rationed right, two if people stole. You needed to find a way out. Maybe tunnel under the wall? 

    “I know that look,” Carl spoke up again.

    Your eyes remained on a dead thing, its jaw was dangling from its face, you wondered if it happened before or after it died.

    “You’re thinking. Think about how to survive.” Carl continued, “You used to do it all the time, at Terminus it never left your face, on the road, it didn’t either.” 

    You refused to speak, focusing on the crowd in front of you.

    “I remember when my dad found you and brought you back to the prison you looked at me the same way, like you were guessing how much longer we would all last. Patrick was terrified of you.” He chuckled, “You looked the same way when we first got here, you placed a three-week life span on this place. I remember you telling me that.”

    “I guess I was wrong.” You shrugged, “It was four.”

    Carl sighed, licking his lips, “Look at me y/n.” 

    You snapped your eyes to his own, there were so blue it was almost startling. His soft smile was gone, replaced with a worried look that dislodged something in your chest. 

    “This place isn’t dead yet. I won’t let it die. I need it, you need it, Judith needs it. We can’t afford to let it die.” He took a step towards you, “So stop making escape plans, you can’t jump ship yet.” 

    You swallowed thickly “I can if it’s sinking.” 

    You hadn’t been this angry in a long time, you felt so pathetic, you were helpless, weak. Rick expected you to just wait for dead people to come save you. You were going to die here and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t stand it. Your heart raced as you picked up a dart, its board was a few meters in front of you but you turned your back to it to look at the photos on the walls. Stock photos of kids who were dead now laughing, a dad serving lemonade, picnics, and blue skies. The first dart bounced off the glass so you pulled your arm back more thrusting the second as hard as you could at the little girl in a french braid and a red dress. The glass cracked, You raised a third, tears clouding your vision as you blindly thrust it forwards hitting the wall where it stuck with a hollow thump. 

You were going to die here. 

    The nights were always the worst. It didn't matter how many doors and gates were between you and them, their constant murmur could always be heard. You tried to bury your head in pillows, you tried earplugs, headphones. It took you two days to realize it was all in your head. The one place no matter how far you ran, you could never escape from. You hadn’t had a panic attack in a long time. Since before, you used to get them over stupid things like science projects and presentations. Now as you chocked on your own breaths it was because you were going to die. Soft sobs echoed around your dark room as you tried to make up for the air you were losing with gasping breaths. Tears clouded your vision, your nose was clogged, you felt like you were slowly suffocating. Your head thumped behind your eyes and the sound of walkers continued. 

    You jumped at the sudden hand on your shoulder, you would have screamed if you had the breath. Your glassy eyes locked with Carl.

    “You’re okay y/n,” He spoke calmly kneeling in front of you. 

    You shook your head wildly, the thick sheen of tears finally falling from your eyes and sliding down your cheeks. “We’re going to die.” you cried, “We’re all going to die.” 

    “You’re not gonna die.” He said so firmly you almost believed it, “I’m not going to, Judith isn’t, my dad isn’t. No one is going to die.” 

    You hiccupped a whimper ripping from your throat, “You don’t know that.” 

    “Yes, I do.” He answered without hesitation, “Now I need you to take a deep breath okay? You’re gonna breathe with me.” 

    You nodded taking in a shaky breath and realizing it. Carl sat in front of you breathing in and out slowly until your hands no longer shook and your heartbeat had calmed. It was silent now, the dead’s noise was gone, replaced by crickets and frogs. 

    “I can’t watch you die, Carl.” You said, “I can’t watch anyone else die.” 

    “You won’t have to.” He spoke, a small smile on his lips, “We are going to make it. I swear.” 

    “How can you be so sure?” you wondered aloud, “How can you know that?” 

    “I just do.” He replied.

    You felt so tired, your eyelids heavy with the weight of shed tears, your head was still aching dully and your limbs felt numb. 

    Carl noticed as your body slumped in on itself. He stood, offering you a hand and pulling you to your feet. You fell into your bed, Carl headed for the door. 

    “Good night y/n.” When he went to shut the door behind him panic set in. You could hear them again, the clash of their rotting teeth, their growls and sickening moans. 

    “Wait!”

    Carl stopped in his tracks, turning back to face you.

    “Please don’t leave.” You begged, “I can hear them when you leave, please don’t leave me.”

    He didn’t question your sanity. He didn’t ask who they were. He didn’t have to. Instead, he walked back inside your room closing the door. You moved over in your bed as he kicked off his shoes and lifted your blankets, lying beside you. It was quiet again.

    “Thank you.” You mumbled turning onto your side to face him. 

    Carl followed your actions, his face was illuminated by the soft moonlight drifting through the window over your shoulder, his eyes almost glowing in the silver light. “Anything for you y/n.” 

    You moved closer to him, burying your head into his chest and fisting his t-shirt. You felt him stiffen for a moment before his arms fell around you drawing you towards him. You could hear his heartbeat, its quickened pace drowning out the endless thoughts in your mind. He smelt of lavender, his warmth surrounding you. 

    “Y/n?” Carl whispered.

    You turned your head up to look at him, head tilted slightly in a silent question. 

    He paused for a moment too long, his eyes flirting across your face delicately. “I love you.”

    The world stilled, the dust in the moonlight air stopped moving, the dead outside the walls froze, the living inside halting their breaths.

“I love you too,” you mumbled. 

His hand found your cheek, his thumb tracing along your jawline before resting underneath your chin and lifting your face to his. Your lips met hesitantly, eyes fluttering shut. His lips were soft and light against your own. Your hands ran up his chest wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips and you tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. 

When you pulled apart you were both blushing, your breaths coming in short pants. 

“You are so beautiful.” Carl murmured and you buried your head into his neck to hide the roses blooming on your cheeks. 

Masterlist

[king-ofthe-ruckus]

Song prompt (if you're still doing them). Pacify Her by Melanie Martinez. I feel like it has such wayleska energy.

oh they’re always going :> like recently i haven’t been working very fast [ i had a very scatterbrained few weeks, so my writing has been worse than usual, but since you’re pretty frequent in my notifications i wanted to give you something extra extra good so hopefully this exceeds your expectation :> ] This ended up being longer than the intended 1500 [ word count: 2865 ] so pt the thing under the keep reading thing-y :>

Tired, blue boy walks my way

Holding a girls hand

That basic bitch leaves finally

Now I can take her man

Bruce wasn’t listening. It was clear he was distracted, index finger absently tracing over the lines of the blueprints. Yellow and blue. His finger would follow the blue, until it crossed over the yellow and followed that one, following the way it snaked through the prints. Big brown eyes so full of sorrow that it made Jeremiah’s heart ache. He wanted to know what could put such a frown on his tired blue boy’s face. He wasn’t meant to worry, that crease between his brows didn’t belong. But, the part that irked Jeremiah the most was his inability to read what caused it. Bruce hadn’t said anything, but Jeremiah wanted to know, needed to know, what had upset him. 

“Bruce?” Jeremiah prodded gently, setting aside his pencil that had been scratching out equations to make sure the building ability to properly balance the weight were correct. He didn’t respond. Just continuing to follow the line. Jeremiah waited a moment, perhaps Bruce was thinking about his work. Recognizing the expertise and complexity involved. He always loved it when Bruce saw his work. It was like Bruce saw him through it. But when he still didn’t respond Jeremiah stepped away from the smaller prototype of his plans for the rebuilt Gotham, his darling prince’s city, and gently moved the paper Bruce was touching causing his finger to slide off the line he was following and to glance up at Jeremiah. How deep into his own thoughts was he to not hear him? He didn’t need to be there anymore. Jeremiah was right here, speaking to him. He could feel his chest constrict as Bruce ignored him. His fingers tingling, wanting Bruce to pay attention to him. Only him. His words. His Eyes. HIM!

“Oh, yes?” This soft expression and with the way his eyes shone and face was flushed it was clear he was upset, enough to have been on the verge of crying. Jeremiah didn’t want him to be crying, he much preferred when Bruce’s thoughts were focused on him. He wouldn’t cause Bruce to cry like this. No, when Bruce cries because of Jeremiah they will be beautiful, a lovely pink flush and the tears to make his eyes sparkle. This crying was splotchy and messy, the tears flooding the lower lash line, so close to cascading over. Jeremiah wanted to fix this. 

“You’re distracted.” Jeremiah wasn’t sure how to approach him. Even after spending so much time together he continuously found himself at a loss for the correct way to approach certain topics, and Bruce’s sadness was one of those topics. He understood that when the anniversary of his parent’s death came upon them. Why Bruce was hesitant to be around others, not wanting to leave the manor so Jeremiah came to him. He understood why he was hesitant to be around others in times of emotional vulnerability, but he and Bruce weren’t just people. They were connected in a way no one else understood. That’s why when he had gone over that day Bruce had hugged him so tight as if he was trying to crawl his nails into his back to grasp at his soul. To bound them so deep that their souls merged. 

“My apologies, Miah.” Bruce put on a tense smile, “Selina hadn’t stayed for breakfast a week ago, and at the time I thought it was nothing, but she still hasn’t come back around.” Stayed for breakfast. Did she sleep there? Sleep with him?! He tried to repress the twist feeling of his stomach, ignoring how his bone ached to poke out of his skin like a porcupine defending itself. Based on Bruce’s sardonic smile, he could tell the way that Jeremiah wished to rip out both of their intestines and tie them together. Forever bound by him, nothing impure about their union. Only them. They were their own purity.

It was like once he opened his mouth to confide in Jeremiah about his worries he couldn’t stop. Like he had lost his usual control of his own voice. Every worry he had about Selina pouring out, about her health, and her inability to open up. Everything Jeremiah never wanted to hear he heard. 

 Someone told me stay away from things that aren't yours

But was he yours, if he wanted me so bad?

“He spoke of her too much. Selina this, Selina that! Can’t he see the work I put into this! Can’t he see?!” Jeremiah growled as he paced around the office. White hands twisting. The blue veins are too prominent with the strange new skin. He’s been so obvious with his affections previously, and now Bruce has the audacity to ignore him in exchange for some, some cat? He’s gone so far out of his way to include Bruce in his life. He spent countless nights planning the rebirth of his beloved city. He was the one putting in the work! He was the one who created a safe space for Bruce to be himself, not stop masquerading as some regular blue blood! Showing him that the outside world means nothing. He’s not the one leaving him behind, or turning his back on him at the first sign of trouble. Bruce needs to finally realize that he doesn’t love her, no matter what he may think. Their hearts are calling out to each other. They are the ones who are meant to be together, not her. That cat is merely a minor interference.

He needed Bruce to see who was actually there for him, maybe the best solution would be to cut that annoying little cat out of his life. Clearly, he needed some assistance. Bruce needn’t ever worry about her, never need to wonder what she is up to. She’ll be rotting. 

“Boss.” It was Ecco’s voice that pulled him from the red haze that overran his thoughts. The anger that boiled in his blood. He could practically feel the skin burning from the inside out sizzling and melting off his bones, muscle splitting open. He couldn’t afford to be blinded, however. The cool water that Ecco had brought in was an unwanted reminder of how much he had drunk after wishing Bruce a safe drive home. How the burning of his skin mirrored the burning of his throat. The warmth wasn’t just the anger, it was fueled by alcohol. He hadn’t even realized he drank as much as he had, simply pouring more whenever his glass got empty. From the look of the bottle he may have well have just poured one glass and drank straight from the bottle. 

“Go make me that frozen pizza in the freezer, please.” Jeremiah rubbed his eyes glancing around at his office that had been destroyed by his angry burst. Ecco had taken care of a drunken Jeremiah enough times to be aware of how the night would go. She wouldn’t be able to leave until maybe two am, if he slowed down on the drinking, or she would end up needing to stay later because he did continue drinking, and would then drunkenly tell her about Bruce and his plans, and she would need to entice him to leave the office so he wouldn’t mess up any of his plans, which has occurred before. To say hungover Jeremiah was more than anger would be an understatement. 

He needed to do something about this Selina situation. She needed to realize that she was of no real importance to Bruce, needed  to remind Bruce he needn’t worry himself over the lives of those beneath him. 

 She's getting on my nerves

You don't love her

Stop lying with those words

Jeremiah walked into the manor. It wasn’t the first time he had been here, but it has been the first time without explicit permission from Bruce. He hated how much he was working himself up; waiting in Bruce’s office for him to get back home, he and Selina had gone to lunch and longer Jeremiah waited the angrier he got. He sat legs crossed, eyes blankly staring at the bookshelves, but he couldn’t count anymore spines. Normally counting had kept his thoughts at bay, he could just numb his mind, but it didn’t work. Couldn’t work with the mental image of the two sharing hushed conversations, with her flirtatiously laying her hand on his arm-

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Selina. A sour taste spread across the back of his tongue at the thought of her name. Bruce’s name was a soothing balm usually, but not with the thoughts of him following Selina, it made his name feel like a too cold shower. His skin not knowing what to do and just panicking and sending his brain every pain signal to make it stop, but how could Jeremiah ever give up Bruce. He had an addiction. Something Jeremiah could never let go. The first one to see him as a separate force of his brother, but still see him as something that can be powerful. He wasn’t the weak twin in Bruce’s eyes. He was Jeremiah Valeska, the engineer, the man who could help Gotham. Jeremiah Valeska, his friend. The first time Bruce had mentioned that he thought of Jeremiah as a friend he was so taken aback his heart screamed in pain for a moment with how overjoyed he was - skipping a beat he realized later. 

“Oh, Jeremiah?” Bruce brought him from his thoughts. Turning from the bright red damaged spine that he had absently stared at for who knows how long Jeremiah noticed a small cat standing behind him, a furious look in her face. Jeremiah wouldn’t mind removing it. Tearing the muscle from the bone, presenting his bloody skull and lamenting about the value of life, on if his life truly had any value before Bruce entered. He hadn’t realized how stuck in his own mind he was until Bruce came. Until Bruce reminded him that living wasn’t surviving, but it was seizing the moments, doing things you enjoy because you enjoy them. He brought life back into his projects. His workroom slowly became cluttered with small ideas and mazes simply because he enjoyed making them, not just because he needed to do something with his hands. 

“Bruce, I’m sorry for having intruded; Alfred let me in.” He stood, buttoning his jacket. Bruce’s eyes latched onto the movement. The way Jeremiah’s head tilted higher than usual, how his eyes linger just to the left of his face. Something was wrong. Something had blocked the usual freedom in which they spoke, and the only change was Selina’s presence, but she had finally come inside and he thought they would finally be able to talk. While Jeremiah did lean towards a more formal approach when they were at the Manor, he had never avoided Bruce's eyes, he hadn’t put on the false bravado that Bruce had seen him use when on the call with contractors. 

“It’s not a problem,” Bruce dismissed before looking back at Selina, “Can you please inform Alfred that we would like some coffee and to include some creamer.” It was a small thing from Bruce to remember and that was exactly why it made Jeremiah’s skin crawl. He never wanted the coffee to not linger on the back of his tongue, but the creamer helped protect his teeth, and the better care of his teeth he took the less likely he would need to go to the dentist. Jerome had wanted to play dentist a few too many times when they were kids; sometimes he could still feel his finger in his mouth, stretching his lips into a strange smile, his lips cracking as the thick irony taste coated his tongue. 

“Has something happened?” He was so adorably concerned, but maybe that was concern for her. Maybe he thought Jeremiah would turn into Jerome, kill his precious little cat. Bruce was just concerned about her. HER! Why wouldn’t he acknowledge that she is unimportant? That he doesn’t need anyone besides him? He couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped.  Crawled its way out against his will, such a fragile sound revealing how broken his mind was becoming at the continuous thoughts of Selina trying to claw her way in. 

“What do you think, Bruce?” He strode closer, entering his space, but not quite able to bring himself to touch him. He wished he could, maybe that would put his mind at ease. It had been an internal war lasting a majority of the night to let Ecco talk him into speaking with Bruce before doing anything too extreme. Framing Selina for a few burglaries wasn’t too extreme by any means. The little cat burglar had gotten herself into worse trouble without his assistance, “Perhaps I’m not especially fond of how you’re worrying yourself over someone as insignificant as Selina Kyle.” 

“She’s my friend, Jeremiah” The warning tone in his voice hurt worse than the words. Why couldn’t Bruce understand that she wasn’t worth his energy?

“She treats you like nothing more than a credit card. A nice place to crash for a night.” A half step closer, eyes desperately searching for… something. For some proof the Bruce isn’t that oblivious to her ruthless manipulation. His hand hesitantly rose, fingertips gently running along his cheekbone. His eyes so focus on the slightest flush, unaware of how Bruce’s eyes squeezed close, before blinking open again. 

“Jeremiah, I sincerely hope that you’ll open up a little. She’s not using me.” He grabbed his hand, thumb pressing warningly against his palm. A smile curling on Jeremiah's lips as the poorly cloaked threat. The dangerous edge only made Jeremiah want to hold him more. Make him want to force Bruce to see that they are meant for each other, not him and Selina. Jeremiah was here. He was here. Why couldn’t Bruce wrap that pretty little head around that. 

It was a poorly thought out decision, Jeremiah will admit that. But he doesn’t regret it, not as Bruce pushed at his chest and tried to pull away, but only for a moment. It was just a moment of fighting, of push back, before he melted. Or maybe Jeremiah melted. Perhaps both had been weakened by the other, and the warmth provided of two hearts perfectly in sync finally having a way to connect. The way Bruce’s hand shifted to interlock their fingers. How his free hand that had been a fist at his side hesitantly rose to briefly curl into his hair, before being pulled out. 

Nothing could match the true fury of when the hand that had been on Bruce neck, that had pulled him into a viciously soft kiss, of teeth clashing and bodies melting, had been pulled off by the hand that should’ve been in his hair. All because he felt it absolutely impertinent to address the surprised gasp and clattering of dishware. Even as Bruce turned his head to look at the doorway where Selina stood, no doubt, Jeremiah didn’t step away, staying perfectly within Bruce’s personal bubble. He was entirely comfortable with the invasion. Glad to be able to show her who Bruce really belonged to. Who he was supposed to be with. Just as he would relish the idea of Bruce possessively entering his space to show whoever he deemed necessary to show that he was Bruce’s. HE would always welcome his invasion into his space. Just as he HAD welcomed Bruce’s invasion into his space through the budding relationship. 

“Selina!” Bruce’s hand tightened on Jeremiah’s. The thumb had been quick to move as the finger interlaced as they were always meant to be, started to rub anxious circles on his knuckle, “My apologies, we had, um” He sheepishly looked at the floor searching for a word, when Jeremiah helpfully supplied, “Got caught up in the heat of the moment, I’m sure you understand how it is.” 

“Oh, yes, of course.” Jeremiah could pick up on the sarcasm, easily dismissing it as her jealousy, rather than the pointed way she said it to Bruce, “But I guess you got this covered Bruce, I’ll leave you to it.” The irritation in Selina’s voice was clear as she walked off. See, Selina had never tried to take Bruce from Jeremiah, just as Bruce hadn’t harbored any romantic feelings for her. The whole reason he had been so worried about Selina is he wasn’t sure how to deal with the crush on the older architect, and she was meant to help him. Obviously, he hadn’t realized just how little assistance he had needed. As Selina stalked off towards the door, to silently make her way into the garage to take a car, a thing she had become quite accustomed to doing, and leaving them at the GCPD, Jeremiah had found a spot right below the corner of Bruce jaw the grew red quite quickly. He didn’t want anyone else making the foolish mistake of thinking they could take Bruce from him. Now that Bruce had given him an inch, he was going to take a mile. 

[swannkings]

Do I want to wade into the murky waters of Ye Old Fanfic Vs Original Fic wars? Yes.

I don’t know who amongst Twitter or Tumblr needs to hear this, but your edgy as fuck takes on whether fanfiction has value or not aren’t new or enlightened. I tend not to get public with my takes on writing, because I was there 10+ years ago doing this exact thing on Quizilla & Mibba, and an individual’s medium of writing and impetus is their own damn business. Any and all writing has value. Sometimes it’s meant for personal indulgence or for small communities or friend groups, other times it has to pass muster for professional publication (which is a whole other shit bag of contention) or mass public consumption.

These arguments (they are never discussions) are also exhausting and pointless. Nobody wins these things.

I agree that Cassandra Claire/Clare and E.L. James are poor examples of professional writers having begun their careers in fanfiction. But, I’d also point out that actual literary agents and publishing houses signed and printed them, and professional editors did at least skim over their works. The authors aren’t the only ones to get blame for shit writing. And let’s not forget Anne Rice, infamously unfriendly toward fanfiction, chucked professional editors out of her equation altogether because she didn’t like them having opinions on her work.

Not all writers want to be published nor want fame.

It does seem to baffle when those words enter the ears of pretentious writers, readers, and others who don’t write at all. Some people write because it’s fun, like a hobby. Sometimes those people, who write for fun, will edit their work and sometimes they let it go as is because it’s just for catharsis.

My big personal project is to track down all digital and hard copies of my writing and catalogue them. I’ve been doing it for 10 years now. I’ve been writing and sharing my writings for the last 18 years. I have a hard copy of the very first major piece of fiction I wrote (a Lord of the Rings fanfic from 2002/2003) and a hard copy of the last piece of fiction I worked on (an AU fic for a Japanese otome game) and a hard copy of my first original novel (a urban gothic from 2017). There is an absolute difference in my writing from age 11 to age 28. And looking at my catalogue of writing, most of it is fanfiction. Do I have original works in there? Yes. Are they good? I think they are, and my friend thinks they are, but whether or not those works are up to snuff for a book deal—that’s up to an agent I haven’t sought out.

Improvements to my writing can be attributed to age (I’ll be 29 in a little over a week), to a university education (a BA in Performance Art from a STEM based offshoot of a way more prestigious school is the most I could afford after 3 years of community college), and alternating writing fanfiction online with a built-in audience/community and sharing original works online (where they got much less attention) and with writing groups/friends.

The truest rule of any endeavor is: you get better with practice.

Does fanfiction enable bad habits? Sure, but so does being educated at an Ivy League school. There’s no shame in acknowledging our own shortcomings. I mean, fuck though, I’d take overusing the phrase “carded his fingers” or inexperienced writers with funky grammar over being a snob with a Linguistics degree and a podcast.

What makes me, an unknown writer, a maybe valuable voice in this here shitkicking?

Because I’ve been doing this for half of my life and because I love stories. I’m an advocate for education and reading, and libraries and accessible information. I’m all for kids (anyone really) picking up comics or graphic novels, or reading fanfiction or webcomics, reading whatever genre or medium floats their boat if it means they’re engaging their minds and imaginations. This extends to film and video games and podcasts and audiobooks too because not everyone has the same level of literacy or ability to physically read or stay engaged with written text.

I don’t have a lot of experience in many things, and I am by no means a fabulous writer, but I am old enough to recognize an old argument and threadbare talking points coming from the mouths of unhappy people.

But is there really merit to writing fanfiction? Yes.

It’s a great way for people new to writing to learn how and practice creating engaging narratives.

It’s a great way for young writers to deconstruct their favorite worlds and characters in order to better understand both the creation of fiction and the types of fiction they enjoy writing. (Heads up: published literary fiction also uses tropes and archetypes)

Fanfiction has a built-in audience. This is perfect for any writers who a) are unsure of their abilities and wish to get feedback, b) wish to remain anonymous for various reasons such as being made to feel embarrassed for writing fanfiction but want a modicum of acknowledgment, c) have rich and engaging lives and just want to share some raunchy fantasies because they most certainly aren’t alone, and d) simply enjoy writing things that make others happy.

Have you seen the goddamned news? Let people have some silly little pleasures.

But what about... you know... brain rot?

That’s a real thing. Twitter has it too (have the last 5 years shown us nothing?) And have you met A Dude From Film School?

Let’s be clear: age doesn’t negate brain rot, neither does only writing original fiction. Young people who are Extremely Online, y’all can have brain rot too, it isn’t just Fandom Olds or your Uncle on Facebook.

You should never let your age dictate whether you are able to engage in fandom or fanfiction, but absolutely should in the ways you engage. Not every piece of fic is meant for you to read and not everyone has to praise the things you write, not even your friends.

For the record: writing tropes, even squicky ones, isn’t brain rot. Not believing fandom is racist or gate keeps is though.

The big take away...

Listen.

If you are a writer who primarily writes fanfiction and you want to someday be a published author of real live books, you do need to create original works and engage with writers outside of AO3, Tumblr, Wattpad, or whatever site is still hosting fic when you read this. It’s imperative you see other parts of the creative world. Stretch your wings, experience other ways of doing. Allow yourself to grow beyond what you know.

There is no guarantee you’ll have a career in writing. There is no guarantee your magnum opus will get you a publishing deal, or will even make it out of the slush pile. Writing to a career endgame can be just as detrimental as writing to a trend.

None of this is even getting into the gate keeping that exists in publishing already and only allows in diverse voices when it’s profitable, making fanfiction and online communities all the more important to marginalized creatives.

It’s perfectly alright to just write because you like writing, and it’s perfectly alright if you like playing in other people’s sandboxes. No one but you gets to place value on your hobbies or take merit from you for not writing like you have a MFA in Creative Writin. Writing a 100k Slow Burn fic takes just as much dedication as writing a 60k original novel, they just stretch different muscles.

[artbymesa]

Unforeseen Consequences

Admiral ZEX, The Captain, Dax

Suggestive themes but no “details”. (Not my kind of writing lol)

I’m really. not sure why my brain fixated on writing this. I was introduced to Star Control and Admiral ZEX by @zarla-s​ (hopefully this tag isn’t bothersome?). I was in the process of introducing him to some friends and it spurred the thought: Would ZEX even expect a human to respond positively to his advances? He’s probably gotten pretty articulate with deflecting rejection and criticism and judgement, but what if that wasn’t the case for once? How well would he handle it?

I apologize for however out of character or Not Canon this may be, but it was a thought that wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it down. And then after I started it, it got away from me. Its been a long, long time since I’ve wrote a fanfic whoo boy

I think I wrote this with the presumption of how it would take place if you could romance him in the game, and the consequences (for everyone) of that XD

“The scope of our relationship can grow as close as you wish.” Zex said with a foreign body language of bravado.

The Captain regarded him for a moment before leaning forward into the Admiral’s personal space, a grin pulling at the corner of their lips. “Oh? Close…how~….?”

Zex sputtered, caught off guard and overwhelmed by the human’s sudden, unexpected close proximity. A human had never so much as dared to tread within a couple feet of him, much less ever enough to feel their breath. He had grown rather bold with this certainty. Perhaps a measure of that was his own doing–  intentionally or not, his forthright tendencies wedging itself in between any opportunity. Being turned away, shrugged off or kept at a distance was the standard order of things. It was easy. It was predictable. And it had been so long, he never really expected that standard to be challenged. Needless to say, this threw him off.

Even still, he may have been a hopeless romantic, but he was no fool. He was aware of what the human stood to gain by winning him over. Manipulating him just to secure his military genius was low– but with a suspicious lack of human behavior like this ever before– not unheard of. He regained a brittle amount of composure, steeling over his words to obscure it. “Captain. If you intend to taunt me please do so in the way I am accustomed. I’ve hardened to the ridicule of my countrymen but faking interest in me is a different manner of cruel. If all you wish is for an alliance I am happy to oblige without the exploitation of my…weakness.”

The Captain challenged his words and moved a little closer, resting a relaxed arm on the admiral’s desk and shrugged. “I’m not faking, Zex.”

The admiral stared at it, then up at the captain when they said his name informally. Anyone else he may have corrected, but there was a warmth to it from the human that he so badly wanted to indulge. He had to confess, he had fantasized about similar circumstances and how he would conduct himself, but now that it was actual happening, he froze. He was usually so articulate but words escaped him, he was usually so well composed but this human had a way with disrupting it like a house of cards. As much as it currently worked against him, it was new to him. Exciting.

Reality began to sink in when the human didn’t recoil their appendage away, instead looked at him expectantly for a response. The gesture wasn’t an error. It was intentional. Even despite their lack of tendrils, humans had such a way with expressing emotion. It was one of the things he loved most about them. This one was a challenge to read, but everything he could gather from them seemed genuine. Which meant…

He struggled for a moment, realizing the position he had put himself in before laughing nervously. “Would you look at this? The first time a human reciprocates interest and even I succumb to a measure of my people’s distrust. You must forgive me, Captain. It has been a long time…” The admiral seemed to fight with some kind of internal conflict for a moment before the human settled it for him.

They reached out, dexterous fingers closing over his arm tendril in a comforting gesture. Their hand was warm, far warmer to the touch than he anticipated.

“You don’t have to apologize.”

Before the admiral could speak, the human was standing. And before he could ask if he had done something wrong, they were on his side of the desk.

A lot of things began to happen at once, and he opposed none of them.

-

“Zex?” The human asked, pulling on their robes not a moment before the admiral could take in one last look at their beautifully crafted anatomy akin to a living, breathing sculpture. They truly were a unique work of art forged from the galaxy and experiencing them so up close was a privilege.  The captain’s question was what pulled him out of his trance.

“Mmm?”The human studied the quiet planet outside from the window. Pensive observation stirred a thought that pricked the edge of their brow. They had such a world of emotion hidden behind subtle changes in their features. But interpretation was a different story.

“How much do you actually know about humans?”

It was a good thing VUX couldn’t blush.

“Admittedly, Captain, much more now than I did an hour ago.”

The human gave a kind but cheeky grin, looking down as if it helped them compose their words differently. Their “smile” as it were, had been toothy and startling when he first witnessed it. It contradicted what he otherwise should have interpreted as some kind of feral threat display. This was so very different. It was tender and warm, and it melted a part of him he didn’t know existed. Since then, he had been compelled to incite it as often as he could. They seemed to respond best with his banter and advances, which was a pleasure in and of its own.

“I’m serious. Be honest.”

The admiral thought for a moment.

“I know that your people are beautiful. And very clever. And resourceful. I know you are a uniquely hardy species. I’ve heard the stories of your people surviving conditions that would have easily killed others by shock alone. As I’m sure you know by now, my countrymen do not share my appreciation. They think you grotesque.”

“What else have they said about us?”

“They may have mentioned that you are stubborn. And reckless.”

“Do you believe them?”

“….I am beginning to consider it.”

“Perhaps you should.”

There was a pause.

“Why do you ask me this now?”

The Captain was quiet momentarily, but returned to Zex. Perhaps it was touch starvation, but he hadn’t realized how much he craved it until the captain returned to settling a hand against what equated to his own. They didn’t make eye contact just yet.

“The Ur Quan enslaved my people. What’s left of them.”

“Oh. Oh, dear. I was not aware. I am sorry, perhaps I’ve lived in isolation longer than I thought. I suppose that explains the lack of human visitors.” The gears began to turn. “But you arrived here in an armed starship. You weren’t given clearance to leave either, were you? You cannot be planning what I think you are planning. Captain, resisting the Ur Quan is madness.”

“And my visit here is a direct violation to your people’s alliance with the Ur Quan. I suppose if nothing else, reputation is accurate.” The human sighed. “You mentioned an alliance but I can’t expect that of you. You would be labeled a traitor. Your people already have enough reason to kill you without my interference as it is.”

“I am not attached to this planet, Captain. Nor interaction with my people, unfortunately.”

“If you think VUX are bigoted, you’ve not met enough humans.”

“How do you mean?”

“My peoples’ entire history is built on conflict and persecution. Our biggest challenge has always been coexisting with eachother. It’s a harsh lense to see it through, but that in mind it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to come with me either. Even if we do win the war, your help or not, life on Earth afterward would never be peaceful. They’ve done far more to their own people over far less. They’d tear you apart.”

“You’re suggesting this shouldn’t last.”

“I’m suggesting that we consider everything involved before this gets complicated.”

The admiral was quiet for a moment in thought. The human brought up a lot of good points, much to his displeasure. But that wasn’t going to deter him so easily.

“While I must commend the forethought, you are forgetting that tactical improvisation in dangerous situations is my specialty. Besides, this planet has always been more of a prison than a place of retirement—no matter how they attempted to sell it me. I saw through it. The whole reason I am here, Captain, is because I refused to be someone I am not. I can assure you. I would rather pursue an opportunity for a life worth living and the one that I want, however that is defined, than to live out my days rotting on this planet in fear. It would simply go against everything I stand for. I would join you on your travels… if you’d have me.”

The human sighed realizing he likely wasn’t going to let it go— not after making a conclusion like that. Not that they truly wanted to refuse him anyway.

That smile returned—quieter, more subtle this time. Almost somber. They reached over to the side of his face and stroked with the back of their hand. His eye closed, leaning into the touch with some measure of tension fading from his posture.

“I suppose it makes it easier when we’re not investing in another bunk on board.” The human teased. “And after all this is over, Alpha Cerenkov I can’t be the only one of its kind in the galaxy.”

The admiral’s shoulders relaxed, and an arm curled around the captain’s.

“We have some time to prepare.  My countrymen visit occasionally to exchange supplies and resources but they’ve been scarce lately and I do not think they know you are here. Fortunately the others that live here permanently are—“

“Sir, I didn’t hear the human’s departure and it’s been awfully quiet, are you o-.OHMY-“ After entering through the door, Dax dropped and shattered what seemed to previously be some kind of beverage he was holding before scrambling to shield his eye.

“Dax!? Have you no sense to knock?!”

“I did NOT see what I think I just saw.“ He nearly pleaded. "Tell me that isn’t what’s going on here. Admiral, I swear to–”

“Who is—?“

“My sub commander.” Zex retrieved and put on a robe of his own irritably before standing. “Who very rudely barged in unannounced, I might add.”

Dax carefully peeked open his eye, as if unsure if it was alright to look. “Excuse me sir, but the very last thing I expected to walk in on was—…“ Something like a grimace contorted Dax’s features.

“I do not need your approval, Dax. Besides, I thought you more open-minded than this.”

“So this is what I think it is. You have to be joking.” He finally looked, though now had a somewhat exasperated and heated posture. “Sure, maybe I don’t hate humans but to be involving yourself with—…“ his eye swiveled from the bed to the human, then back to Zex with a more bitter grimace. “What will the council think?”

“The council will not think anything if they don’t hear of it.”

"With all due respect sir, this– this had gone way too far. This is going to get you killed!”

“Mind. Your. Place. Dax.”

The sub commander’s posture recoiled slightly. His superior may have been reckless, blinded, mad and a hedonist, but he was also well respected and rightly earned it. Dax was as loyal as they came, even if the admiral absolutely exhausted him at times. This was easily in the top three of those.

“…I’m sorry, sir. I understand the council put you here to pursue your…‘lifestyle’–.”

“That’s what I’m doing, aren’t I?”

Dax laughed, uneasy. “Sure, but I highly doubt they expected it possible for you to ever actually–”

Zex sighed stubbornly and looked off, the sub commander’s words stinging a bit. It gave Dax pause to reword, but Zex spoke before he could.

“Please excuse me, captain. I’ll take care of this.”

The two of them left the room and shut the door behind them.

“Sir…even if they don’t find out which they obviously will, how do you expect to keep this up? If this gets back to our home planet they’ll make an example of you. They’ve been placated this long knowing you’re not influencing the public but as soon as it starts to get out of their hands it could cause an uprising. How long has this been going on?”

“If you must pry, I’ve spoken with them on recent occasions but this was the first time we–”

“Eugh. No. Stop. That’s enough.” He winced and interrupted. “So you’re telling me you don’t even know this human very well. You don’t know if they have an ulterior motive for all of this.”

“Actually, Dax, the human initially agreed with you. They were ready to leave for the sake of my safety and that would have been that. But I was who convinced them otherwise. They wouldn’t have initiated what they did or gone as far as they did if their intentions were to take advantage of me. If you were violently repulsed by the very appearance of an alien, don’t you think having sex with them would be a last resort? ”

“Sir, please—“Dax cringed, waving his arms to stop him but Zex continued.

“And if you must insist on doing this now—“ He huffed and straightened himself. “I’ve decided to join them. I’m leaving Alpha Cerenkov. The human plans to resist the Ur Quan.”

“Have you gone completely mad?! What about the fleet? I hope you realize the position you’re putting them in if they question them. If they question me. They’ll suspect us traitors. I didn’t swear an oath to your loyalty with the intention of breaking it. If I refuse to give them what they want…”

“If you and the rest of the fleet do not intend to join us, then perhaps the less you know the better.” The admiral turned back to the door, but Dax stopped him. There was a pause.

“I hope you’re sure about this…”

“There are few things I’ve been surer of.”

Dax sighed deeply.

“Just…wait. Don’t do anything reckless. I’ll talk with the fleet.”

[aceyanaheim]

What are your Kaiba thoughts for the Send Me a Character ask?

hmm

I’m guessing you mean Seto Kaiba but..imma do all 3 because i can.

Seto Kaiba

First impression

What a BAMF!

( I was a child and very tiny and kinda fairly very bullied and Seto was...well he broke into his own house and jumped out a window. And he could fight. I was sold. I wanted to be like him.) I also sided with him over Yugi on most things...including friendship and speeches.

Impression now

Maaaaaaaaac freakin dork ass curt ass dramatic af  child with anger issues and trauma someone help him someone help him Now.

I also ( obviously) now side with Yugi over Seto on the whole friendship deal. (But I get Seto’s reaction on an almost instinctive level and still love him a lot.)

( Like..dont get it wrong. I poke fun at him because of how much he reminds of me as a kid but...I adore him and I’ll defend him from near anyone. Okay no I won’t because im a coward who goes into fight-or-flight at the mere thought of char-disc-0urse but like still 

I love the kid.  Him good child. Deserves all the happiness and good fortune. I want to see him grow up healthypng.)

Favorite moment

hmm. I haven’t seen him since the show was new so its foggy but..Imma say any time he either shares screen time with Mokuba or snarks at Joey. ( at Joey specifically because oh lord “Mokuba make sure Wheeler’s late” still sends me into a laughing spell. ( mind you I adore Joey too but  uh..yeah. Snarking Seto is best Seto)

Idea for a story

Right now the one I have is a crossover with xmen where Laura Kinney becomes his and Mokuba’s bodyguard. It has ended up becoming 3 separate verses because i couldn’t decide between comic!book Laura and Logan!Laura and also at what time in both their stories I wanted them because I am the opposite of competent and know no hubris.

It’s eking along kinda slow-like tho. Because writing Seto’s hard for me. I feel like a lot of people have done it better already. So I don’t know that it’ll get done.

Also I don’t know how to keep her from killing Pegasus.

I also had an idea for him and Tea becoming friends in like therapy or something but that never kicked off. Although it’s worth mentioning I’d like to explore the concept of what it would take for them to get along.

Unpopular opinion

He’s a good person I guess? I’ve heard that’s unpopular but haven’t seen it. He deserves a shot at a happy life. He’s a good person? He has never ( to my knowledge) been unkind to Mokuba and even if he was being angry in one moment in your life isn’t some kinda morality indicator especially when it comes to children. Especially traumatized to high heaven children who just keep getting traumatized so no Mokuba didn’t “deserve a better brother” or w/e both Seto and Mokuba deserved better period and can people just enjoy the show which is about forgiveness and friendship anyways good golly. 

I mean..yeah I guess I got a few.

 Another one that I think might be unpopular but I don’t know due to not really publicizing it is that Seto and Yugi....actually aren’t that different at the core? Like if you took Seto away from a lot of the Tragic Backstory stuff he might end up..not exactly like Yugi but not that different either. They’d have a lot in common.

Favorite relationship

Him and Mokuba. Hands down.

Favorite headcanon

Ohshoot do i even have one hm. This ask covers a lot of the headcanons I have for him..but I guess my favorite is him liking children followed by the one that he does math equations and formulas when he’s bored.

I also share a lot of the ones @iced-blood has posted due to most of my exposure to the character coming from his fic after I stopped watching the show so a lot of his headcanons are up there too.

Mokuba Kaiba

First impression

He’s adorable. Protect him.

Impression now

He’s adorable and tiny. Protect him.

Favorite moment

Either him in the beginning of the Noah arc since we get to see him know how to operate the computers in KC or when he’s telling Alistair off in Awaken The Dragons

Basically any time he’s not getting captured again for the plot tho.

Idea for a story

I have a couple drabbles based on @kintatsujo‘s age swap AU...and her In The Back Of My Brain AU, alot of her AUS give me ideas actually ( which of course id ask for permission before pursuing)  but nothing concrete.

Oh and the xmen crossover mentioned above.  Mokuba’s a fair share of that since in one of them Laura’s his bodyguard rather than Seto’s. ( in another Gozaburo gets Laura as protection for Seto while still being abusive and they both shake him off. Like I said it’s..it’s splintered into a lot)

Unpopular opinion

I..don’t think I have any? I don’t really know what opinions are popular tbqh. I guess if anything i saw here is then that.

Favorite relationship

Him and Seto. 

Favorite headcanon

His hair’s a liability I speak from experience.

I guess I’m a fan of the shared headcanon that Mokuba wears heelys. I like the idea that he’s not a genius like his brother and maybe he doesn’t get HIgh HIGH grades and maybe that’s okay ( as someone who has a complex relationship with academics I guess thats something I wish i saw more often yknow) because he’s smart in different ways.

I like the idea of Mokuba being athletically inclined like skate boarding or parkour or being involved in some sport at school I mean he roped climbed out a window in his intro episode so its not that outlandish.

I actually don’t have that many headcanons for this kid. I should fix that.

Noah Kaiba

First impression

Yikes. What  a freakin loon. ( first episode) Oh no..he’s lonely and abandoned. Oh no oh no oh no. ( later episodes in the arc) Okay but he’s still a mean dude ( when he turns ppl to stone) Oh no...he died...and he turned around at the last minute WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DONT GET TO SEE HIM AGAIN. ( at the end)

( yeah Noah took kid!Me through the freakin wringer)

Impression now

He was a child. And his father left him to rot. 

He deserved so much better. 

I love him. I cry and screech about him needing things monthly and sometimes weekly. 

Favorite moment

When he turned around to fight Gozaburo. Also the scenes where you see Mokuba getting to him.

Idea for a story

I guess-no I know a lot of people have done it better but I like the idea of a canondivergence where he’s spared and/or rescued by Seto.

I also like the idea of crossovers with shows like Digimon or Code Lyoko where you have digital worlds.

I just don’t want to be alone and i want him to have nice things okay. That’s..that’s all i want..from life.

Unpopular opinion

Probs that he was an actual smol child and got a raw deal and Deserved Better. ( tm) ( you’ll find thats..my beat with a lot of characters ^-^:) 

Favorite relationship

He...doesnt have any? In fics where he gets brought back like Paved With Good Intentions ( specifically Blue Eyes Violet Eyes) I like seeing his relationships with the other Kaibas. But as far as Canon goes...yeah there’s none.

Favorite headcanon

He’s very tactile. He liked running his hands through his dog’s fur and it always got to him that digitized it..wasn’t the same.

Following that he used to be very physically affectionate before Gozaburo started discouraging it.

Following that if he was to be brought out of the digital place/rescued I think he’d be pretty clingy. I mean because of the tactile thing and because..he’d need to reassure himself the world around him is real.  

If he had been allowed to live he’d probably think he didn’t deserve it/that he has to Atone for the stuff he’s done.

His whole world was his father and even when he hated him he loved him. He wanted nothing more than to be held by him again. That’s why the abandonment stung so much, there’s nothing like hating and being hurt by someone you love...and still having a part of you love them. A part of him still wonders what he did to get left behind. That’s a big part of what drove him to the deep end.

Character Asks Meme

[hanjisungz]

britt britt britt!!! hi 😌✨ it’s salena (@moonlit-han). for how intimidating you are… well, 2 - 3 years ago you were 🦊 bc love equation. i swear that fic is so good! but now you’re a lovely 🐹

oh, and how’s that binsung brain rot going for you these past few days? i, for one, am completely wrecked. inconsolable, incoherent, and totally not sobbing in the corner. they’re just so [gestures vaguely, blushes]. anyway, have a good night!!💕

@moonlit-han hiiii salena !! 💞 oooh so i went from "fairly intimidating" to “You? Intimidating? Hell no.” 🥹💓 also yes i did write love equation (but i read your other ask and i don't think that was the harry potter one! i think the changbin one was the hp one!) i didn't even know people still read those fics on my old blog 🫣😟 but thank you sm hehe

and my binsung brain..... listen......... i don't wanna spoil anything but a binsung gifset is coming soon so lemme just say my binsung levels are astronomical 🥴😵‍💫😩 literally made me smile the whole time i made it those two make me just 🫠🫠🫠

[impossibleleaf]

The obliquity of the eliptic, the solar system does in fact matter

JOHN: Whether the Earth goes round the Sun- SHERLOCK: Not that again. It’s not important. I deleted it. (...) Listen, this is my hard drive, and it only makes sense to put things in there that are useful, really useful. Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see? 

JOHN: But it’s the solar system! SHERLOCK: What does that matter?! So we go round the Sun! All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots.

So... Sherlock believes he needs to make a choice of what to keep. Only the work matters, no need for useless trivia. He’s married to his Work, not to the Sun.

Sherlock’s usage of his brain reflects his understanding of how the world works. Sherlock must repress emotions to be a good detective, and as such, he deleted the solar system and everything about the Earth revolving around the Sun.

Brain>Heart (Earth). Delete sentiments, delete the solar system.

HOLMES: The obliquity of the ecliptic. I have to understand it. LESTRADE: What is it? HOLMES: I don’t know. I’m still trying to understand it. LESTRADE: I thought you understood everything. HOLMES: Of course not. That would be an appalling waste of brain space. I specialise. (...)  It’s the inclination of the Earth’s equator to the path of the sun on the celestial plane.

But by TAB, Sherlock realizes he need to know at minimum the basics. So, the Earth has a slight inclination. The goal we percieve is to seem cleverer than he is, because Mycroft is going to use his failings.

MYCROFT: Murderous jealousy. He’d written a paper for the Royal Astronomical Society on the obliquity of the ecliptic, and then read another that seemed to surpass it. HOLMES: I know. I read it. MYCROFT: Did you understand it?

Of course, he understood it but he can’t help but look at Watson.

And you’re starting to wonder if they’re actually talking about the Earth, or even astronomy.

MYCROFT: No. Did you understand the murderous jealousy? It is no easy thing for a great mind to contemplate a still greater one.

The solar system is about sentiment. To people were writing about the obliquity of the earth’s eliptic. But one was better and got killed out of jealousy.

Earth=John, the two people fighting over him are Sherlock and Mary. And one was driven to murderous jealousy.

Sherlock repressed sentiments for too long his understanding of the solar system, of the Earth and its obliquity. He gets the fact now, but does he really understand the jealousy that came with it?

It’s not his fault, you start thinking. He deleted it, he needed the space for his Work, repress sentiment to have the iron-clad logic.

EURUS: I remember everything, every single thing. You just need a big enough hard drive.

But we have Eurus here to give us some hard truth. You don’t need to delete what seems useless.

You can remember everything, every single thing and keep the solar system in your tiny brain, you just need a big enough hard drive. And I think Sherlock’s is big enough for the task.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

IT'S AS RELAXING AS PAINTING A WALL

It's a good idea. Version 4. It only came in black, for example, but Microsoft, within the castle of their operating system monopoly, probably wouldn't even notice if you did. Both of these images are wrong. They will give you major coverage for a major release, meaning a new digit after the decimal point. 7x a year, you tend to, because it's easy to buy. You have to be disciplined about not letting your hypotheses harden into anything more. In most fields, prototypes have traditionally been made out of different materials. And so when we see increasing differences in income in a rich country, there is a pattern here. Founders are your customers, and the things they wanted with their own hands.

If a hacker were a mere implementor, turning a spec into code, then he could just work his way through it from one end to the other. At Viaweb, I doubt we ever had ten known bugs at any one time to bother with a formal bug-tracking system. In particular, you now have to deal with employees, who often have different motivations: I knew the founder equation and had been focused on it since I knew I could see the effect in the software as soon as this thought occurred to me, a whole bunch of other things fell into place. You're committing not just to starting a fast growing one, and instead of physical knobs it had buttons and an LED display. If you have a recurring revenue stream. A hundred years ago. There are still a lot of the next generation of software may be server-based.

But they would do even better, because the bugs are random. But startups often raise money even when they are or could be profitable. One of the most useful mental habits I know I learned from Michael Rabin: that the best startup ideas seem bad: If you pitch your idea to a random person, 95% of the investors we dealt with were unprofessional, didn't seem to be that 1. What people usually say is not that they can't think of ideas, but a lot wider at the top: the best way to generate startup ideas is also the most unlikely-sounding: by accident. There are no meetings or, God forbid, corporate retreats or team-building exercises. I didn't realize how much of a threat. What was wrong with that? By this.

There is always a tendency for rich customers to buy expensive, handmade cars that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Right now, VCs often knowingly invest too much money at the series A stage. But when I think back to the stone age. So far, Java seems like a fraud. At its best, it's creating the spec—though it turns out to be different from the beginning. One of the founders than their ability. If they're really ambitious, they want that extra oomph that the big stars have. In the middle you have people working on something like the natural history of computers—studying the behavior of algorithms for routing data through networks, for example, because people start to use it in different ways.

It would be very successful. That's not a rate. Pretty much every successful startup has. If someone offers you money, take it. But it didn't spread everywhere. And, strangely enough, it's also why they fail so frequently. That doesn't seem so hard, does it? Stealing It The second reason we tend to be driven by fashion and schmoozing, with actual ability a distant third. The two most important things to understand about startup investing, as a sort of short-order cook, making whatever the client tells you to. What made it possible for me to buy a computer of my own. A surprising number of founders said what surprised them about starting a startup. It's the sort of big social shift that only happens once every few generations.1

Don't be evil. What is going on here? If new ideas arise like doodles, this would explain why you have to have one or the other in your society, take relative poverty. If you're worried that your current job is rotting your brain, it probably is. Even Microsoft, who have the most to lose, seem to see the inevitablity of moving some things off the desktop. In fact it's the old model: mainframe applications are all server-based software. With purely Web-based software now, because writing desktop software has to be generated. It could be simply that many famous scientists worked when collaboration was less common. It's amazing how easily you can reach out to people and get immediate feedback. Unless AOL fights back, they will be facing not just technical problems but their own wishful thinking. In this model, the research department functions like a mine. For a lot of technological leverage.

We can confirm this empirically. I think new theorems are a fine thing for parents to help their children indirectly—for example, will cheerfully work 20-hour days to produce the Apple computer for a society that allows them, after taxes, to keep just enough of their income to match what they would have made working 9 to 5 at a big company, and act surprised when someone made you an offer. When we started Viaweb, hardly anyone understood what we meant when we said that the world would be a pretty lonely place if we only had one company per batch. So making hackers work in a noisy, distracting environment is like having a guilty conscience about something. Where does wealth come from? Real standards don't have to worry about. The ones on startups get tested by about 70 people every 6 months.2 This is why some software costs more to run on Windows, and before Octopart there was no definite border between software and infrastructure. Then you can measure is dangerously misleading. Then one of their parents introduced them to a small investment bank that floated their bond issues. Apparently when Robert first met him, Trevor had just begun a new scheme that involved writing down everything about every aspect of his life on a stack of index cards, which he carried with him everywhere.

With the rise of the middle class. Till the rise of the middle class made a living largely by creating wealth, society as a whole. A page of formulas just looks so impressive. In the real world, wealth is except for a few specialists like thieves and speculators something you have to fix it in an ugly way, or even frivolous. And if you can figure out the rest as you go. The easiest program to change is one that's very short. The root cause of variation in every other human skill.

Notes

If you want to. The latter type is the most important section.

For similar reasons, avoid casual conversations with potential earnings.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Sarah Harlin, Slava Akhmechet, Trevor Blackwell, and Jessica Livingston for smelling so good.